


Copy and Paste

by iTs_LeMoNaDe_ReAd_ThE_sIgN



Category: Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kise is Yachi's uncle, Kise is kind of an a$$hole, Other, Yachi Madoka is Kise's oldest sister, Yachi low-key hates basketball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iTs_LeMoNaDe_ReAd_ThE_sIgN/pseuds/iTs_LeMoNaDe_ReAd_ThE_sIgN
Summary: In which Kise's Copycat skill is hereditary, but Yachi didn't get the memo (Everyone else does though).





	Copy and Paste

A few times a year, Yachi’s mother and her siblings would gather for a dinner at a one of their homes. This time around, the dinner was going to be held at Yachi’s apartment. Hitoka was nervous. She had not seen her aunt and uncle in a few months. She had no idea what to wear, what to say, what to do. She was lost. 

 

“Hitoka” Her mom called. She had just put on her shoes and was heading for the door. 

 

“Yes Mother?” Hitoka asked, jogging into the hallway.

 

“I have to run to the grocery store. Get started on the meat while I’m gone.”

 

“Yes Mother.” Once her mother left, Hitoka locked the door behind her and headed for the kitchen. She brought out the pork and started slicing into small pieces.

 

_ ‘I wonder what they’ll say when they see me?’ _

 

* * *

 

 

1\. She was born into a family of extroverts.

 

Her mother was a talker. Being the oldest of three, she was used to being in charge. Her word was law, and she had no problem telling a person off. She tended to be a bit negative in her words, and it didn't help Yachi’s self confidence at all. 

 

Her aunt was a party crasher. Not the annoying ones who steal all of the good food and sleep on the couch, but the one who could bring the place to life with a smile.

 

Her uncle was childish and unpredictable, but he had a certain charm about him that made people watch him in awe. He never had a problem making friends. 

 

Then there was her, Yachi Hitoka, whose destructive imagination would turn you off if her trembling didn't first. Her uncle had been her only real friend that was her age for a while. But even he had distanced himself from her. 

 

2\. She was born into a family of attractive people.

 

Her mother was gorgeous. She had on many occasions stopped traffic calling for a cab. This didn't happen because she walked into the middle of the street. It happened because enough cab drivers would stop by her that they caused a blockage. 

 

Her aunt had the most beautiful smile. She had the largest, honey brown eyes in the family. She even made the gap between her two front teeth look attractive. 

 

Her uncle was a part time model. Whatever time isn't occupied by sports or extracurricular activities was spent posing for Zunon Boy magazine.

 

Then there was her. Who was so small people still think she’s a first year in junior high. Whose blonde hair and Brown eyes are so pale and light that whenever they see her with her mother, they think they aren't related. 

 

3\. She was born into a family of Athletes, and every one of them had the ability to copy the movements of opponents perfectly.

 

Her mother played tennis. She had seen videos of her zooming from one end of the court to another, swinging her racket and sending the ball flying back towards her opponent. She had given up tennis to pursue a career as a designer, though. 

 

Her aunt was a star baseball player in high school. She had heard stories of how her aunt could hit home run after home run in the same inning. She coaches a little league team now.

 

Her uncle plays basketball for his high school team. She had gone to a many of his games and saw how he could dunk on his opponent. He dodged and weaved through them, and scored most of his team’s points in every game. 

 

Then, once again, there was Hitoka, whose hand-eye-coordination was on par with a very lazy cat. She had never liked sports as much as the rest of her family. Where they would chat about their favorite teams, Yachi would be curled up on the couch, reading her favorite book. 

 

It's not like she never tried sports. She did, with her uncle when they were younger. They played many, many games together, whether it was soccer or hopscotch. It was fun for both of them at first. 

 

Then it happened. The reason why her mother quit baseball, and her aunt doesn’t play national. 

 

He became great. So great that he was bored playing with her. So great that he stopped going easy on her whenever they played. So great that she could no longer keep up with him. So great that she broke her wrist trying to (She could still feel the injury sometimes).

 

So great that when she had come home with the fresh cast, he said:

 

_ “Maybe we shouldn't play together anymore, ne? You aren’t any good and I’ll only break you.”  _

 

Is it wrong that she dislikes her family for those things? Is it wrong that she used to curse the higher beings above for blessing them and skipping over her? Is it wrong that whenever she sees her aunt and uncle, she avoids them like the plague? 

 

Hitoka has been envious of her relatives and all of their amazing abilities. They were all beautiful, they were all athletic, and they could actually talk in front of a crowd without trembling. The only thing she had was academics, but even that will end eventually. Why was she the black sheep?

 

This is why she loved volleyball. It was a sport that she wasn't forced into liking for her family’s sake. It wasn't a sport that any of them had claimed for themselves. It was a sport she could enjoy playing and a sport she loved to watch even more. This is also why she kept her newfound skills a secret from them. She feared the thought that one of them would end up taking something special from her sport, and make her end up hating it just like she hates the others. 

 

Hitoka’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the front door. Putting down her knife, she walked towards the door. 

 

“Coming!” She yelled.

 

_ ‘That was fast. Did Mother forget her keys?’  _

 

Standing on her tiptoes, she looked through the peephole to see who was behind the door. Then she swallowed a gasp. Behind the door was not her mother, but her aunt and uncle. 

 

_ ‘Sh*t, they’re early!’  _

 

“Hitokacchi?” Her uncle called. He brought his face closer to the door to look through the peep hole, even though he knew he wouldn't see anything. Unlocking the door, she opened it for her. 

 

Her aunt was tall. Taller than her anyway. She had beautiful strawberry blonde hair, pulled up in a messy bun. Her large eyes, small nose and cute smile had stolen the hearts of many over the years. This was Kise Azami.

 

Her uncle was gorgeous. His bangs had grown a bit more, and he had certainly gotten taller. He was built but not too much. He still had that same picture perfect smile. This was Kise Ryouta.

 

“Hitokacchi!” 

 

“Hitoka, I’ve missed you!” 

 

“Good evening, Auntie, Uncle.” Hitoka moved out of the doorway to let her relatives enter. The two Kise’s had taken off their shoes. Once they did that, they followed Hitoka into the small living room. 

 

“Ora ora, don’t call me that!” Ryouta whinned. “It makes me feel old. Call me ‘Nii-san’.” He stretched out the “Nii” part as he wrapped his arm around Hitoka’s shoulder. 

 

“Okay Nii-san.”

 

“You’re still so cute, Hitoka. You’re too cute to be in high school.” Azami cooed.

 

“But I’m sixteen Auntie.” Hitoka gave an airy laugh. “I'm supposed to be in high school now.”

 

“Bah. You're still thirteen to me, hun.” She reached an arm around Ryouta and ruffled Hitoka’s hair. 

 

“Auntie.” She gave a small smile. She heard her uncle coo above her. 

 

Hitoka had her relatives sit in the living room and handed her aunt the remote. 

 

“Mother had left for the grocery store. I’ll have dinner ready soon. Please entertain yourselves while I’m gone.” Then she bowed and left. She felt how stiff she was towards them, but they didn’t seem to notice or care too much.

 

Hitoka walked to the kitchen area and opened a cabinet door. She ducked down so her face was hidden and she let out a shaky breath. She had to prepare herself for the night to come. She hoped that they would not find out about her after school activities.

 

Knowing her family, though, she was sure it would happen.

* * *

 

Hitoka’s mother had returned a good twenty minutes ago. Once her mom had given her the vegetables and ice cream, she had left Hitoka to cook their meal and headed to her siblings. Hitoka could hear their conversations, about Ryouta’s academics, or about Azami’s little league, or how her mother’s friend always looked uptight, even if he was the opposite. 

 

Hitoka had finished the Okonomiyaki and started serving. She handed the biggest plate to Ryouta, who complained about his hunger every five seconds since he got there. Once everyone had a plate, she came back with her own and sat down with them. 

 

“Itadakimasu.” They chorus before eating. Everyone lifted their chopsticks and pulled them apart in unison. 

 

“So, Ryouta.” Her mother started. “How’s the team doing?” 

 

“Eh, well. Ever since Kasamatsu-senpai and the third years retired, our team has been a little shaky.”

 

“Mmm.” She said. “Third years retire after interhigh right? Must be tough.”

 

“Madoka, you act like you didn't go to high school. You're not that old that you can't remember.” Azami laughed. Her mother huffed.

 

“Shut up. It's been a while ok? And it's not like I spend most of my day with children anyway.”

 

“Nee-san don't be mad.” Azami laughed. “I'm just messing with ya.” 

 

“Well you interrupted Ryouta’s story with your unnecessary comment. Anyway, Ryo?” Ryouta smiled at his two older sisters. 

 

“Some third years don't retire until the either they win spring tournament or they lose it.” He continued. “But Senpai said he wanted to focus on his exams, so he retired.” 

 

“The new regulars are all really nervous and shaky, hehe _...just like Kurokocchi in his first game. _ ” He said that last part under his breath, so only Hitoka, who was sitting closest to him, heard him. 

“But I think we’ll be fine.”

 

“Hey Madoka?” Azami called. “Did you go to the Winter cup?”

 

“Sadly no, my boss wouldn't let me off work. How about you, Azami?”

 

“Me neither. I had the flu.” She answered. “Did you go, Hitoka?”

 

“...Yes. I saw Kaijo’s match against Fukuda.” Ryouta’s head snapped in her direction. Wincing, he cried out as pain shot through his body. 

 

“Whiplash!” He shouted. “Ow ow ow.”

 

“Nii-san!” Hitoka stood over her uncle, waving her hands frantically. “Are you alright. Do you need anything? Ice? A massage? An AED?” 

 

“My Neck!” He whinned. He moved closer to Hitoka, who froze when he hugged her. She had forgotten how affectionate her uncle could be.

 

Hitoka continued to worry over her uncle, unsure as to whether she should leave to get the ice or call an ambulance. Ryouta, whose pain ended a few seconds after it happened, continued to whine and moan, hugging Hitoka and whimpering into her shoulder like an injured puppy. Her panicking grew greater and Ryouta smiled into her shoulder. 

 

Hitoka gently touched his neck, as if she were handling glass, and she rubbed the spot with three fingers. She circled the area and tried to keep the pressure she applied consistent. Ryouta, surprised by her touch, let himself relax as she continued her ministrations. He wasn’t faking his next sigh. Azami and Madoka watched the two teenagers interact, smiling to themselves. 

 

“Are you alright, Nii-san?” Hitoka asked, trying not to shift in his grasp. Ryouta had given up his act and smiled brightly. 

 

“Hai, thanks to you Hitokacchi!” He gave her a thumbs up as he sparkled. 

 

“...Your welcome.”

 

“Hehe so what were we talking about?” He scratched his head as he looked at her.

 

“Hitoka went to your game.” Azami helpfully added. 

 

“Oh right!” He looked up at his niece. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I didn't get there in time. You were already playing when i arrived. Sorry Nii-san.”

 

“Aww, it's ok. I’m just happy you came! I thought you hated basketball.” Hitoka’s eyes went wide. How did he know about that? Was she really that obvious that he could pick up her disdain for the sport? 

 

“I love my Nii-san, so I went to see my Nii-san do what he loves.” She said, hoping he would fall for her obvious ploy. 

 

“Hitokacchi,” He said with teary eyes. Line and sinker. He pulled her down for a hug. ”I love you too!” 

 

“Nii-san…”Hitoka awkwardly patted his back. Sometimes he could be too affectionate. Slowly, she started to forget what made her dislike him.  “You’re squishing me.”

 

“But I don’t wanna let you go!” He drew out “go” as he held her tigher.

 

“Nii-san please?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Nii-san..”

 

“Mm-mmm” 

 

“Ore Ryouta, don’t choke my daughter. I only have one of her.” Madoka feinted anger. She was happy for her little brother and niece, glad that they were talking again. 

 

“Hmm.” He said, looking up as he pretended to think. “Maybe I’ll let her go…” Hitoka almost sighed in relief, but stiffened when Ryouta turned his mischeovous eyes on her. 

 

“But you’ll have to do something for me.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“I dunno yet. I’ll let you know when I think of it.” He said. But by the look on his face, he already had something in mind.

 

“...Ok.”

 

“Great!” He cheered. He had a strange glint in his eyes, like he was planning something. “Anyway, what did you think of the game?”

 

“Oh. I thought it was really cool.” She said without hesitation, feeling more comfortable now  that she was let go of. “It wass really fast-paced, and everyone tried their best. Your senpai's are really cool, and that one that like rebounds was entertaining. But the whole game was like it was between you and the black haired guy. The scary one that kept licking his thumb.” She said, trying not to rabble. Ryouta nodded, smiling brightly at her. 

 

“You were really impressive, but he was using a lot of your moves and you started losing to him. I was worried for a second,” She looked at her hands, which were wriggling without her permission. “B-but I believed in you and you won, because Nii-san is awesome.” She said, grinning down at him.

 

“Really?” He asked, his eyes dancing. Hitoka nodded excitedly. 

 

“Yep! You were like “Gwah” and “Swoosh” at the same time!” She said. Then she froze. The others present in the room looked on in surprised, because Hitoka had never talked like that before. “I-I mean   !!!” 

 

“Aw, it's that cute Madoka?” Azami said loudly. Hitoka couldn’t stop the pastel from dusting her cheeks.

 

“It is, Azami.” Madoka smiled into her cup.

 

“But “Gwah”? What’s that about?” Azami laughed, patting Hitoka on the back. 

 

“Auntie!” Hitoka cried.

 

“A little strange isn’t it? I think one of the boys Hitoka brings home talks like that.” 

 

“Boys you say?”

 

Boys?! What boys?!” Ryouta asked, sounding alarmed.

 

“Mother!”

 

“She tutors some boys from her school’s Volleyball team. She’s their manager.” Madoka said, before taking a bite of the cooling food. 

 

“You’re a what now?!” He said, eyebrows disappearing into her hair. “When did that happen?”

 

“A few months ago.”

 

“But you said you didn’t want to be a manager for any team.” He said.

 

“They convinced me. I don’t regret it, either. Volleyball is an amazing sport.”

 

Ryouta was quiet for a moment, staring at Hitoka with an almost thoughtful expression. Hitoka had taken a bite of her food, filling her mouth so she wouldn’t have to talk for a few minutes if she chewed slow. Madoka chuckled while Azami sighed. The two started whispering to each other. 

 

“Hitoka’s growing up so fast, Nee-san. Isn’t this how it started for Mom?”

 

“Yeah, maybe it’ll happen soon for Hitoka.”

 

“I hope so. I’m getting tired of waiting for it to happen.” 

 

“Patience dear sister. There’s no need to rush. If she has the Copycat gene, she has it. If she doesn’t, then she doesn’t.”

 

The copycat gene. The piece of dna believed to be passed down from generation to generation in the Kise line. There was no scientific evidence to prove that such a thing existed, since some in the Kise line never gained the ability. However,  those who can copy would like to believe that it was real. The three copycat’s all believed in it. Hitoka, on the other hand, didn’t even know it existed. 

 

Madoka, Azami, and Ryouta had all gained this ability at a young age, but Hitoka never did. When she never showed a passion for sports that the rest of them had, they had given up hope. Madoka became more negative towards her daughter, believing a little tough love would awaken it. Azami blamed it on the Kise genes mixing with her deadbeat father, who abandoned her mother when she was a month old, leaving japan with his girlfriend. Ryouta unconsciously tried to awaken the gene, playing with her when they were younger. But he was a child, an impatient child, who was already quick to give up anything he was bored with. 

 

Hope blossomed in the hearts of the two elder sisters, and a strange fire burned in Ryouta’s eyes. Unbeknownst to them, the gene had already awakened in the oblivious girl. 

 

* * *

 

“Hey Hitoka’?” Ryouta called out. He and Hitoka were in her bedroom, him lying on her bed, which was too small for him, and her in her closet looking for her night clothes. 

 

“Yes, Nii-san?” 

 

“I know what I want now.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Come to Kaijo and be our manager!” He said cheerily. She didn’t hesitate in her answer. 

 

“No Nii-san.” He sat up from the bed, shocked by her refusal. 

 

“Oh come on. I miss you, and if you come to Kaijo, you can come live with us again.” Ryouta said, remembering how Hitoka  and her mother lived with her grandparents until Madoka had gotten on her own two feet. She had needed the help since her Husband literally disappeared into the night. 

 

“Nii-san. That isn’t right of you to ask something like that.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“How would you feel if someone asked you to quit basketball for soccer?” Hearing this, Ryouta became a bit angry. 

 

“But that’s different!”

 

“No, you’re asking me to leave a sport I like for one I don’t like. That’s not nice of you.”

 

“How can you not like basketball? I don’t understand you.”

 

“I don’t know if we can ever understand each other when it comes to sports.”

 

They stared at each other, both refusing to back down. Ryouta’s gaze was intense, and it made Hitoka extremely uncomfortable. But she never broke eye contact. She tried hard not to fidget, not wanting to show weakness in front of him right now. 

 

Ryouta was the first to look away, much to her relief. He looked back towards the duffle bag he brought with him, and them back to Hitoka. 

 

“Fine, Then I want something else.” He said, the glint in his eye returning. “Come on.” He grabbed his duffle and headed for the door. Hitoka, uncertain as to what he might have planned, followed a few paces behind him. 

 

“Nee-san, can I take Hitoka out for a little bit. I wanna go to the park.” He called to his sister. Madoka, who was eating ice cream with Azami, had turned to him.

 

“Fine, but he back by 11.” She answered, turning back to her younger sister. 

 

“Thanx Nee-san. Let’s go, Hitoka.” He said, grabbing her hand and running out of the apartment. 

 

“Nii-san!” She shouted, then hushed herself when a neighbor yelled at her to be quiet. “You’re going too fast.”

 

“But I have to hurry.” He responded, keeping his pace. “We only have an hour and 58 minutes left.”

 

“My legs aren’t as long as yours. I can’t keep up. Slow down just a lit-” She cut herself off with a squeak. Ryouta, not wanting to slow down, had thrown the small girl on his back. Scared of falling off, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She probably felt like a backpack to him. 

 

They had arrived at the park a few minutes later, but Ryouta still would not slow down. He rushed through the playground, scaring a few of the pedestrians, and past the large baseball court. Suddenly, he stopped. Hitoka whipped her head around to see where they ended up and blanched. When he lowered himself down, she jumped off his back. 

 

“Nii-san.” She started. “Why are we here?”

 

“Why else, Hitoka.” He said, lifting something from his duffle bag. “To play.” He threw the basketball at Hitoka, who barely caught it. The two of them were standing in the middle of a basketball court. 

 

“Wha-”

 

“You have an hour and 55 minutes to score ten points. If you do it before then, I’ll take you home and you’ll never have to play again. If you lose,” He smiled.”You have to play me again and again, and you have to score two more points than before. So if you lose today, the next time you have to have 12 points instead of 10. Simple right?” 

 

“I never agreed to this.”

 

“But you did. You said you’d do what I wanted, and I want to play. But fair warning, I won’t go easy on you just because you’re my niece.” 

 

“But, wait-”

 

“Ready?” He asked, ignoring the ‘no!’ from his niece. “Let’s go!” Then he rushed at her. So fast she had no idea what happened. But from the lack of texture in her hands and the whooshing sound coming from behind her, Hitoka had a pretty good idea. 

 

“Hey!” She shouted, turning around, then stepping back as the ball was thrown back to her. Ryouta ran until he was back where he was before, facing her. 

 

“You’ve seen how the game works, right? Try to get past me while dribbling.” He said, standing in a defensive pose. His eyes were practically glowing, and his smile was much too bright. He was enjoying himself, alright. 

 

“I don’t want to do this.” 

 

“That’s fine. You can just stand there and I’ll keep scoring,” He shrugged. “But then I’ll just keep bringing you out here to play every time I see you. You hate basketball right? That would probably make you feel angry, playing the sport you hate over and over again just because you couldn’t score a measly ten points now.” 

 

_ ‘I just remembered why I kinda hate him now.’ _ Hitoka thought. “I thought Nii-san’s were supposed to be mature.”

 

“Ah, sorry.” He laughed. His eyes darkened as he replied. “But I’m not mature enough like an adult to hold down my instincts.” 

 

Hitoka tsked, actually feeling a little fear, Her hands trembled as she thought about her next course of action. Either way, he would win. She knew that, and she knew he knew that too. Yet, she still allowed herself to play right into his hands. Even if his visits wouldn’t be often, the thought of having to play the sport that he had chosen over her was disheartening at best. 

 

Sighing, Hitoka let the ball fall to the ground and bounce back up into her palm. She dribbled once, twice, then three times. That’s as far as she got before the ball bounced away from her. She would have been embarrassed if she wasn’t so frustrated. 

 

Before she could run after the ball, Ryouta had jogged past her. He grabbed the ball and turned back to her. When he was close enough, he handed her the ball. His smile was genuine this time. 

 

“Dribble with your fingers, not your palm. You can control the ball better that way.” He said, moving her hand until she was holding the ball correctly. He watched her dribble it once, twice, three times, before nodding in satisfaction and returning to his spot. He wasn’t expecting a thank you, and Hitoka never gave him one. 

 

She ran towards him, still dribbling the ball. Even though she knew it would happen, she was still surprised when he rushed at her, stealing the ball, and scored another two points. She had actually managed to turn around just in time to see him jump high in the air and dunk, almost breaking the hoop.

 

“Err, maybe I should be more careful.’ He said, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. He turned back to his niece. “Did you see? It was cool, right? That was Aominecchi’s rush and dunk.” 

 

“Was it now?” Hitoka said, keeping her face neutral. She remembered the dark blue haired teen. She remembered his impressive skills and aggressive play. Ryouta nodded.

 

“I’ll show you Murasakibara next.” He said, tossing the ball to her once again. 

 

“Huh?” She asked intelligently. What did he mean? She remembered the Purple haired giant as well. She heard stories of how he could finish an entire box of Maiobu in three minutes. All of the food he ate obviously went to his height. 

 

“But first, fix your stance Hitoka.” He said, moving back to her, and going back into his stance so she could see. “Try to make your body like this. Make sure you run with the balls of your feet, but keep your heels on the ground. Make sure your knees are pointing forward too. You can crouch a little more, but don’t lean forward too much.” Hitoka made the necessary adjustment to her stance. “Perfect!” Then he left her side once again. 

 

Dribbling again, she rushed towards him, running more with the balls of her feet. She tried to switch hands while she dribbled, but the wretched ball flew away once again. 

 

“Nice try!” He said, going after the ball. He meant it too, she knew he did. “You almost got it. Just remember to use your fingers. Do like this.” He demonstrated the move she attempted for her. Through her growing frustration, she managed to nod. He handed the ball back to her and watched her attempt the move again. She tried it once, twice, three times, and he nodded. “Ok, let’s try that again!” Then he left again. 

 

Hitoka rushed towards him, running with the balls of her feet, dribbling with her fingers, and managed to switch hands successfully. When Ryouta stole the ball that time, he smiled at her. 

Turning around she watched her uncle jump high into the air and slam the ball down with both hands. Hitoka knew that anyone who followed him would have been blown away by that, literally.

 

“That was “Thor’s Hammer”. Murasakibaracchi is so scary when he does it.”  He said, tossing the ball back to his niece again. “Let’s go again. I think I’ll do...Midorimacchi Next!” The green haired Megane-chan who was obsessed with the Oha Asa horoscope, or so she’s heard. 

 

Hitoka’s frustration had developed into anger. She had even less of a desire to continue their game, but she did it as a matter of pride. She was her mother’s child after all. 

 

“Hey, Hitokacchi.”  _ ‘Oh, so I’m Hitokacchi again now?’  _ She thought bitterly. “Try to focus on my waist or knees when I move. You’ll probably be able to see how your opponent moves better that way.” He said. 

 

“Osu.” She said, more out of habit than anything else. She dribbled the ball again, rushing towards him, running with the balls of her feet, switching hands from right to left, keeping her eyes on his waist. She saw him move to her left, then the ball was gone again. Following him with her eyes, she saw him stop a few steps in front of her and jump. The ball flew up high and kept rising. Running next to him him, saw the ball make a sharp arc downwards. She saw her uncle turn around and poke the bridge of his nose just before the ball fell through the hoop. It was a perfect three pointer from the half court line, and he didn’t even see if it went in!

 

“Phew, I thought i missed it.” He said, sagging his shoulders. “That’s Midorimacchi’s old three pointer. He used to only be able to do it from the half court line, but now he can do it from even the the other hoop! Crazy right?” 

 

“Yeah.” She said, panting a little bit. She could feel the sweat at the nape of her neck. 

 

“Are you alright? Do you want to slow down?” He asked, concerned. He pulled a bottle of water seemingly out of thin air and handed it to her. For some reason, his concern made her blood boil. 

 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She said, taking a swig of water. She handed the bottle back and grabbed the ball. She waited for him to get back into position before dribbling. She rushed at him, switching her hands once. She saw his knees move to her left and switched her hands again. She ran past him, and made it two steps before the ball was once again out of her hands. She felt the hand push the ball from behind her. 

 

Hitoka watched as Ryouta ran to the ball, dribbling it and them moved to shoot a three pointer. His hand placement was different this time. It looked less like he was shooting and more like he was...passing to the hoop. Nevertheless, the ball went in slamming against the backboard on the way down. 

 

“Those were Kurokocchi’s moves. I still can’t get his Phantom shot perfect, but I’m pretty close!” He said, his face in an almost dreamy expression. He stayed like that for a few more seconds. In that time she thought of the light blue haired ghost that her uncle described as the “Phantom Sixth man” of the Teiko Generation of Miracles. Eventually, he snapped out of it and face her. “I don’t remember you being so fast, though. You surprised me just now. Good job!” 

 

“...Hnn” She replied. Before he could ask what she had just said, she dribbed again. 

 

“I showed you everyone else’s moves, now let me show you Akashicchi.” He said excitedly. Hitoka thought of the scary captain she had heard stories about. How he could make his opponents fall without touching them, or how he almost killed one of Ryouta’s new friends when he disobeyed him, He definitely isn’t the kind of guy she would invite to her house. “You ready?” 

 

“...” Hitoka dribbled the ball, rushed towards him, switched hands once, twice, and watched him move to her right. Right as he did that, she switched hands again. As she passed him, she spun around on one foot, trying to keep the ball as long as possible. She had made it four steps before the ball was stolen. 

 

Hitoka turned to watch how he would score, and was confused when he stood facing her, dribbling. 

 

“Try to stop me.” He said.

 

“...What?”

 

“Try to stop me. “ Without another word, he rushed towards her. She ran at him, spreading her arms slightly. She saw his knees move to one side and felt her body move that way. Suddenly, he shifted, and Hitoka found herself on the floor. 

 

_ ‘What just happened?’  _ She asked herself as she watched her uncle walk to the hoop and jump, letting the ball hit the backboard as he scored two more points. Hitoka struggled to find words to describe her emotions at that moment. She was starting to lose control, yet she felt more alert than before. 

 

“That was Akashicchi’s Ankle-Breaking move.”

 

“...It’s kind of scary.” She managed through gritted teeth. She was breathing slightly and sweating much more. It was mostly from her compressed anger, and only a little because of their current activity.

 

“I know right?” He said, not even noticing her anger. “Your getting better, Hitokacchi! Maybe you’ll score soon.” 

 

“...”

 

“...Hitokacchi? You don’t look so hot. Let’s take a break. We still have a good hour. You go sit over-”

 

“NO! AGAIN!” A voice shouted. It echoed through the court. Ryouta jumped slightly and Hitoka gasped. Then she covered her mouth when she realized that the voice was hers. 

 

There was a tense moment. Hitoka slowly rose off of the ground, dusting herself off. Ryouta watched her movements, his eyes still wide. 

 

“Are you sure, Hitokacchi?” He asked, his voice surprisingly light. 

 

“Again.” She said, getting into her stance. She was seething, at him for making her play this game, and at herself for wanting to continue it. She was too prideful, wanting to beat him so badly. She knew she couldn’t win, and he knew she couldn’t win. However, maybe it was all the time she spent with her murder of crows, but she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. 

 

Hitoka dribbled the ball again, ignoring the way Ryouta looked at her now, how he smiled whenever he stole the ball, how he complimented her efforts. She ignored the times he would hum a tune or swing his arms in his genuine happiness. All she focused on was her need to win. 

 

* * *

 

Six points. 

 

She had scored six points in the entire time they were there. The first two had been lucky. She had made a reckless shot that earned her an almost scolding from Ryouta. The second two were from a sloppy jump. The ball had hit the backboard and rolled around the rim of the hoop before falling in. The third one was her luck once again. She had tried to use one of the moves he used against her, and it worked for the most part. 

 

After those six points, Ryouta was more offensive, and she couldn’t break through. He had probably scored 80 more points, and would have kept scoring if her mother hadn’t called. Apparently, the game had lasted much longer than it was supposed too, and now the two had to rush home or risk facing her mother’s wrath. 

 

And by rush home, she meant riding of her uncle’s back as he ran back to her apartment. Hitoka felt like she dead weight on his back .Her muscles ached and she was felt tired, but her anger kept her awake for a while longer. She settled for daydreaming while her uncle dashed through the streets. 

 

While she daydreamed, Ryouta smiled. 

 

He thought over the game they played. How she moved, sloppy and sluggish at first. He remembered how the more they played, the better her moves became. He remembered the look of complete concentration and the sudden bursts of speed and skill he didn’t know she possessed. He remembered her eyes, the frightening rims around them.

 

He had seen that same look in the mirror too many times to count. 

 

_ ‘So it’s finally happening, huh?’  _

 

He couldn’t stop the happy laugh that escaped his mouth. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Came the grumpy voice of his niece. 

 

“Oh nothing.” He replied. “I’m just thinking about our next match. I can't wait for it!” 

 

“What?!”

 

“You lost. That means we play another match. “

 

“...”

 

“Don’t be mad, I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”

 

“...Whatever you say, Oji-san.”

 

“Hitokacchi! Don’t call me that!” He whinned. He received no reply from the person on his back.

 

“ _ Hitokacchi! _ ” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was a fic I wrote a few years ago, based on a random headcanon I had where Kise and Yachi are related. I thought it would be interesting if his copycat skill was something genetic, thought I did give Yachi the short end of the stick when it comes to Gene holders. She's fine though. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


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